


The Test of Time, The Test of Distance

by mamalovesherbagels



Series: Chimney Whump Central [8]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Bobby Nash Being a Dad, and the poor baby anxiety pukes in front of everyone, he's having a hard time with her leaving, hen knows they need to have a conversation, lots of hen and chimney friendship, they're working it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24703849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamalovesherbagels/pseuds/mamalovesherbagels
Summary: It's been a few days since the team has found out Hen's intentions for medical school. Chimney's struggling with it, because how is he supposed to do his job without his best friend? He's only a brilliant paramedic because *she* is brilliant.
Relationships: Howie "Chimney" Han & Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Series: Chimney Whump Central [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726990
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	The Test of Time, The Test of Distance

His heart is slamming against his chest, his shaking hands are clammy, and he can feel the bile trying to rise up his throat. He knows it’s going to happen eventually whether he likes it or not, his anxiety has run too far away with him to stop it from getting to that point, and he just needs the ride back to the station to be over already so he can escape to the privacy of the bathroom.

It’s Hen’s fault, really. No, it isn’t. He wants to be bitter with her but he knows that’s not fair. She’s following her dreams and all that, which is cool, but in the days since she’s announced her desire to go to medical school and thus (eventually) leave the 118, every call they go on gives him a panic attack. He constantly second guesses himself the entire time, wondering if he would even know to do the right thing if Hen wasn’t there. It sucks.

This time it’s even worse than usual, because Hen came up with this creative last minute save that pulled the poor patient back from the brink of death, and it’s the kind of thing he knows he’s not capable of. Fuck it, she’s always been the smart one, and he’s always been the sidekick.

His stomach flips over and _oh god_ , they’re pulling into the station, just wait another moment and then you’ll be free to run off and puke in peace, Howie.

He barely makes it out of the firetruck before the contents of his stomach come spewing out onto the floor of the station. Fuck. He can hear surprised murmuring behind him, but can’t make out the words being said over the pounding in his ears. He feels hot and dizzy, and crouches down to avoid falling over.

“S-sorry, sorry, sorry!” he chokes out, “embarrassed” not even beginning to cover it. 

“It’s fine, Chim, messes can be cleaned up. I’m more worried about you than the state of the firehouse floor,” Bobby says sympathetically, crouching down beside him and putting a comforting hand on his back, “can someone get us a trash can or something in case he’s not finished?”

“Got it,” Eddie volunteers, shooting Chimney a confused but concerned look before rushing off.

Hen is just sort of standing there- at a distance, looking like she wants to go join Chimney but doesn’t know if she should. He’s been… distant from her ever since that day at his apartment when he and Karen were drunk off their asses, and she had explained that no, she’s not cheating on her wife- she just wants to be a doctor. She knows Chimney is hurting, and while she wants to go help her best friend, she’s not sure at all if he’d actually _want_ her help.

Buck is at a distance, too, looking equal parts grossed out and worried as Chimney leans forward and retches into the bucket that Eddie had brought over, and pulls out his phone to send a quick text to his sister.

“I’ve got you,” Bobby murmurs, patting his back, “let it out, Chim.”

“Bobby,” he pants, pulling his back just enough to meet his eye, “a-alone?”

“Alright, alright,” Bobby calls, getting the message crystal clear, “I think I can handle this, guys. How about we give me and Chimney some privacy?”

Buck and Eddie both leave without a word, but Hen hesitates for a moment.

Chimney sends her a quick look that can be best translated as “go away,” and she does, but she’s gotta be honest. It stings.

“I’m sorry,” Chimney mumbles to Bobby, leaning back from the bucket and sitting cross legged on the floor.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bobby says sincerely, “it’s a floor. It can be cleaned. You’re more important. Now, do you want to tell me how long you’ve been feeling sick?”

“Not that long.”

“Can we be a little more specific?”

“Only started during the ride back to the station,” he sighs, and hey, it’s the truth.

“And you didn’t say anything because…?”

“Because I thought I’d be able to put it off until I could get to a bathroom.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Bobby admonishes, albeit with a little chuckle.

“Because I’m 43 years old and should be able to handle my personal problems without throwing up everywhere,” is his second answer, and it’s helpful, because Bobby’s next question was going to be if he was _sick_ sick or anxious sick.

“What’s got you feeling so nervous, buddy?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m guessing this has something to do with Hen?” Bobby asks knowingly, nudging Chimney’s shoulder.

“Yeah, something like that,” Chimney sighs, shifting to hug his knees to his chest, “I know I’m being a baby about it, I just… I need to get over it. Just give me a few more days and I’ll be over it.”

“I would never ask you to adjust to the idea of your partner leaving in just a few days,” Bobby murmurs, rubbing his friend’s back, “and you’re not being a baby about anything. This is a reasonable thing to be struggling with.”

“She’s my best friend. The smart one. I can’t do this without her, Bobby, I just can’t.”

“If that’s a resignation, I’m not accepting it.”

“It’s not a resignation, it's just… I don’t know, the truth.

“Yeah, I’m not accepting that as truth, either,” Bobby shakes his head, “you are plenty smart, Chim. You’re every bit as smart as Hen is, and it’s going to be a rough adjustment when she leaves, of course it is. But you’ll adjust, I know you will. And she’s not leaving yet, you know. You have plenty of time left with her, and plenty of time to make peace with it.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Chim, do I need to send you home for the day?” he asks gently, “I know you’re not _sick_ sick, per say, but you’re having a rough time, and I can call someone in if you need to go home and rest.”

“No, no, I’ll be fine. I feel better now, really I do. Much less nerves.”

“Are you sure? It’s okay if you need the rest of the day off, really.”

“No,” he says tiredly, “I want to stay. Please?”

“...Okay,” Bobby nods after a moment’s deliberation, “but go lie down for a bit, alright? I’ll clean this up.”

“No, no, Bobby, I’ll clean it up, it’s my--”

“Go lay down in the bunks. That’s an order.” 

He’s closing his eyes, restlessly turning over and over, hoping to eventually relax enough to get a few winks of sleep before the bell goes off next when he hears someone softly calling his name and footsteps approaching.

“Mmm?”

“Sit up for a second, I brought you something to drink.”

Reluctantly, he does, raising his eyebrows when he sees the can of ginger ale in her hand.

“I’m not actually sick.”

“I know,” she nods, “Bobby told me it was anxiety. I just want to make sure your stomach settles okay.”

“...Thanks,” he says after a moment, hesitantly taking the beverage from her.

“You should answer your phone, you know.”

“Huh?”

“I think Buck must have mentioned something to your sister, and since you’re not answering your phone, she’s blowing up all of ours asking how you’re doing.”

“Tell her I’m fine.”

“Or, you could do it, because I think she needs to hear it from you unless you want her to leave her shift early.”

“She doesn’t need to do that,” he sighs, reaching into his pocket for his phone before realizing it’s not there.

“You left it on the table,” Hen smiles gently, “I’ll go get it for you.”

“Hen--”

“Listen, I know things are weird between us right now, and that it’s probably a part of why you just threw up all over the floor, but I’m still your friend, even if you need some time before you can be mine again. You’re going to let me help, okay? Whether you like it or not.”

“I… okay,” he says weakly, and of course she can read him like a book.

Hen must already have Maddie on the line when she returns, because he can hear a, “yeah, yeah, almost to him,” as she approaches.

“Here,” she says simply, unceremoniously shoving the phone in his face.

“Hi, Maddie,” he says quietly, taking in a deep breath as he waits for her to respond.

“Hi, baby. Are you alright? I heard you--”

“Puked on the station floor in front of everyone, yeah,” he replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“It’s fine,” Maddie says matter-of-factly, “it happens. They’ll get over it. Are you okay? How’s your stomach? Do you need me to--”

“No, please don’t leave work early. I’m staying for the rest of my shift, anyway. I’m not actually… you know how I get when I’m really stressed.”

“Oh, Howie,” she sighs sympathetically, and he’s pretty sure he can guess what sort of face she’s making over at the call center, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. What has you feeling so anxious? Are you sure you don’t need me to come to the station? Even if you’re going to be stubborn and finish out your shift… it’s okay if you need me right now, okay? If you need me, I’m there.”

“I’m okay, Maddie. You’re very sweet, but you don’t need to leave work for me right now. I’m in very good hands. Hen’s forcing ginger ale on me even though I’m not actually sick.”

“Good on her,” Maddie smiles, albeit sadly, “that’s what I was doing if I was there. And snuggling you. That’s what you’re missing out on, baby.”

“After work, hm?”

“After work,” she agrees emphatically, before sighing, “speaking of which, I need to get back to it. But please, please, call me if you change your mind, okay? You know I’ll rush over there in a heartbeat if you need me.”

“I know you would, and I will. Have a good rest of your shift, okay?”

“Bye. Love you. I’ll meet you at your apartment after my shift’s over,” she says, and he can practically hear the pout in her voice as she ends the call.

“You manage to hold her off for now?”

“Just barely,” he smiles, “Hen… I… I’m sorry I’m like this. Right now.”

“Don’t be,” she shakes her head, “I want you… I want you to feel whatever you need to feel. You’re my best friend and if you need to hurt, you need to hurt. Even if it’s because of me.”

“I’m happy for you, I just,” he pauses, trying to find the right words, “I just need some time to also not be happy for you. Does that make any sense? I need some time to sulk.”

“It does make sense,” she nods sadly, “and for what it’s worth, I don’t see it as sulking. You’re just… people have feelings, Chim. You’re allowed to have feelings. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“...Maybe.”

“Yes,” she laughs, rolling her eyes, “now drink your ginger ale. Can’t have you nauseous while we’re out there trying to save lives.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles, tentatively taking a few sips.

“There we go,” she nods approvingly, “I’m sorry you’re having a rough time today, honey, and I’m sorry if part of that is because of me.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty, Hen,” he whispers, frowning at her.

“I know you don’t,” she replies, pinching his cheek with her finger, “I just don’t want you feeling so badly either… move over.”

“What?”

“Move over. There’s room in that bed for two of us,” she says with a casual shrug, as if her offering to snuggle him is a normal occurrence for the two of them.

“Okay,” he says after a moment, scooting over and patting the space in the bed next to him.

Hen slides into bed next to him, shimmying to be leaning up against the wall before pulling him to be leaning on her. It’s sweet, and he’s glad she can’t see that he tears up for a couple of seconds.

“I know you’d probably prefer it be Maddie doing this for you, but hopefully I’m an okay substitute until our shift is over.”

“Mmm. Good substitute. This is nice,”

“We’re gonna be okay, right, eventually? You’ll forgive me eventually?”

“You’re my best friend; I could forgive you for anything,” he nods earnestly, “just like, give me a week or so of being weird with you, okay?”

“That I can do,” she smiles, and she feels him relax his muscles, leaning into her a bit more, and she thinks maybe she already has a bit of his forgiveness already.


End file.
